Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 225: Ashamed

Three days after leaving Rosa City, Roel noticed that there was something really weird going on.

“Why do my lips look a little swollen?”

Roel stared at his swollen red lips in the mirror with questions buzzing in his mind. He was prepared for the possibility of him being afflicted with all sorts of ailments from being in a different environment, but the symptom he was suffering was beyond his understanding.

What could possibly cause swollen lips? Did I accumulate too much ‘heat’ in my body from eating too much barbecued meat? That shouldn’t be. I’ve never suffered such symptoms before, and a transcendent’s body shouldn’t be that weak!

Roel had no idea what was happening to him, so he called Cynthia over to enquire about it. After taking a careful look at it, she responded carefully.

“Milord, it looks like it’s just... swollen.”

Roel was left a little speechless. He lowered his gaze contemplatively while stroking his chin, trying to figure out the situation here. However, this action resulted in him noticing something that caused his eyes to widen.

In view of the possibility that a battle could occur, the carriage modified by the Sorofyas didn’t use comfortable soft carpeting that could be hard to maintain balance on, but a special type of material that grasped onto the soles of one’s feet. This special material made it much easier to see things that would usually not be too conspicuous... such as footprints.

Roel stared at the footprint on the floor as his complexion gradually turned awful.

Cynthia and the other mercenaries would step onboard his carriage and report their schedule every day, but he was certain that this footprint didn’t belong to any of them. It was simply too small, to the point that he suspected it to have come from a child.

A child was able to circumvent my defenses and sneak in while I was asleep?

This notion left Roel feeling deeply unnerved.

His first thought was that it might have been a ghost. Ghosts did exist in the Sia Continent, but they weren’t as terrifying as they were in his previous life as there were many known means to deal with them. Still, the knowledge that someone had been peeking on him at night made him incredibly uncomfortable.

But on second thought, it didn’t really make sense that a ghost could leave behind a footprint, which meant the being which had been sneaking into his carriage was likely to be incredibly powerful. It reminded him of the legends of the banshees, who were rumored to feast on the life force of human travelers. However, the last known sighting of a banshee was already several centuries back.

Roel didn’t think that he would be so lucky as to meet with a mythical monster, but nonetheless, this matter was definitely not one he should make light of. The carriage of the Ascarts’ successor wasn’t a place where anyone could climb onboard as and when they pleased.

After a moment of careful contemplation, Roel regained his composure and instructed with his usual tone.

“Cynthia, bring me the map.”

“Yes, milord.”

Cynthia quickly brought a map back into the carriage, only to be faced with Roel’s stern face. He tapped lightly on the surface, which made the latter’s face turn incredibly grim.

Half an hour later, Cynthia walked out of the carriage and continued marching ahead without saying a word, as if nothing had happened at all. Roel also behaved as per usual, and he even took an afternoon nap.

Evening time, the convoy stopped by the roadside. The mercenaries quickly hunted down a few animals in the area to stock up on their rations before proceeding on to prepare dinner. Roel seemed to be in a particularly good mood that day as he joined in his subordinates’ party and sang along with them. Then, at the same time as he did in previous days, he retired back into his carriage.

Time slowly ticked by. Soon, when the moon was high in the sky and Roel was ‘fast asleep’ in the carriage, a dim silver light began manifesting once more as a slender figure appeared as promised.

The next moment, Roel shot up and a battle broke out.

...

“...”

“...”

Half an hour later, Roel sat by the table as he gazed impassively at the ‘imp’ who had snuck onto his carriage. The pitiful girl sat timidly on the bed opposite to him, her face utterly reddened with shame.

Roel and Cynthia’s bait worked out perfectly. There was an air of leisureliness drifting in the camp due to the earlier party—Roel had even sung a melody together with them—and it successfully made Alicia lower her guard and appear as per normal, thinking that nothing would happen. Yet, she found herself welcomed with a massive bone claw and a tight encirclement of many transcendents outside the carriage.

The moment Roel saw Alicia’s face, he reflexively stopped what he was doing, but it was already too late to halt his subordinates outside.

Cynthia was the leader of the Ironwall Mercenaries, and she viewed this mission with utmost importance. She never thought that a problem would have cropped up under her watch, so she gave her 120% this time around in order to make up for his failure. So, almost at the same moment that Roel stopped his attack, she barged into the carriage with the other mercenaries.

And this resulted in public humiliation.

Unfolding before everyone’s eyes was a silver-haired girl frozen in place while trying to take off her shoes and climb onto her older brother’s bed.

Cynthia was utterly dumbfounded, for she recognized the other party to be the young miss of the Ascart House. She had met Alicia before when she previously escorted Charlotte to the Ascarts’ manor. Unfortunately, none of the other members of the mercenary band recognized her.

Context-wise, they were in the midst of the wilderness at night, and a humanlike being possessing inhuman beauty suddenly appeared in the midst of their master’s carriage, presumably with hostile intention. Naturally, their first reaction would be to put down this being.

“Be careful, it’s a banshee!”

“Protect Lord Holy Son!”

“The carriage is too small. We need to knock her out!”

The agitated mercenaries were overflowing with killing intent. Those in the front line raised their shields and were prepared to ram her out. Left with no choice, Roel could only shout out the words that he didn’t want to say the most.

“Stop! She’s my little sister!”

The surroundings plunged into a bizarre silence right away. Some of the mercenaries who were already in the midst of their charge had to veer sideward in order to avoid Alicia, only to end up ramming loudly into the door at the opposite end.

Cynthia had a stiffened expression on her face, and the other mercenaries could hardly conceal the peculiar looks on their faces too.

Alicia’s face turned crimson under everyone’s gaze. She huddled into a ball with a low weeping noise. Seeing this, Roel quickly flipped up the blanket and covered her.

“It’s alright now. It was just a misunderstanding. You may return to your positions.”

Roel clasped his forehead as he struggled to voice those words out. The crowd quickly backed out from the carriage, knowing that they had seen something they shouldn’t have.

It was only till the mercenaries finally fitted on the spare carriage door that Roel finally pulled the blanket away from her, revealing the utterly embarrassed Alicia. The two of them sat like that for ten whole minutes, neither knowing how to initiate the conversation at all.

A long time later, Roel sighed deeply and said.

“Tell me, what were you thinking?”

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